The Perks of Being a Spy
by DingDangPaws
Summary: Blaine is a spy in one of his first few field missions with the assistance of Puck and Artie.Little does he know that his life would never be the same after that. AU: follows the canon verse of New Directions not existing with a few twerks.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

* * *

Blaine Anderson enjoys the perks of being a spy. The cool gadgets, the power over authorities (well for officers that know none of this, of course), spy language and being the country's secret superhero. For a 17 year old, he has quite a vivid imagination. Blaine scales the building with amazing stealth, barely making a noise as he cuts open the glass window and popping out the small glass.

_Clink_was the sound his black high cut boots made. He scanned the room for security cameras. The room, Blaine observes, is a staff lounge. An old television sits between two windows and four couches, which are matching sets that surround the telly, which does not fit into the room's design. A counter at Blaine's right had a coffee machine with mugs facing down on the countertop. Cold metal chairs surround a long dining table that was next to a doorframe leading to the hallway._Well looks homey enough,_Blaine sidetracks before focusing on his current mission. For this mission _should you chose to accept it_ is to remove a highly confidential file from the hands of the Russian government in the Russian embassy before it is sent off to Russia the following morning. Not even Blaine knows what information the file contains. All he knows is it's for the safety for all Americans depend on this file.

"Maybe if you're taller enough you might get to know top class Intel." His partner-teammate-spy Puck elbowed as they were returning from yesterday's mission. (Delivering a defected American diplomat back to Washington)

Blaine was never used to one-man missions. He is always a team player, and most of his mission consist of low risk delivery of 'packages', he is still a junior agent after all.

"Blaine! Shit man, sometimes I really think you're in your little rainbow land." Puck yelled in Blaine's ear.

"Sorry," Blaine managed to shake it off, _you gotta focus Blaine._

"It should be the second door to your left and easily unlocked with a paper clip."

True enough, Blaine tweaked on the lock with his paper clip (given by the agency) and the door creaked open revealing a room filled with steel cabinets and shelves stacked with boxes.

"Okay, Artie has managed to plant a virus in the computer system. You have 9 minutes to find the file."

"Affirmative," Blaine confirms "Hobbit going in."

Using a high tech scanning device, Blaine made sure to scan through the area for any lasers that could have tipped the system._Always made sure to check your perimeter and know your surroundings, make sure to have an emergency second exit._

He crept into the storage room, rummaging through cabinets after cabinets,

"7 minutes." Puck warned.

"What kind of a file is it again?" said Blaine, after the attempt of turning the room upside down for the damn file.

"It's in the K or H category, probably full of personal information."

"Wait, are you saying that it might a person's particulars?"

"Possibly."

"Hobbit, Saw. I'm sorry to break up your little chitchat but we have a guest." interrupts Artie, bringing in some sketchy camera image of the "unwelcomed guest" through Blaine's night vision goggles.

_Ah ha._"I got it!" Blaine yelped in excitement, not bothering to check the file for its content.

_Junior agents are not to read classified information_ unless specifically ordered to do so.

"Good job, Hobbit, now get the hell outta there." Puck said.

Blaine crossed the now messy room, content of what he has done; he slipped out to the hallway. He couldn't help but glanced at the thick file. Curiosity can indeed kill the cat, well for Blaine's case...

The first page included a printed birth certificate and on the top right hand corner is a photo clipped onto the document. Fortunately for Blaine, he was able to see the man in the photo through his night vision goggles._Thank you espionage._ The man, no boy, had a round face, sharp around the chin. His lips were a thin strip of a smile and his nose a little crooked but is perfect in every sense. And his eyes- -were black and white because it's printed in black and white.

"Hobbit, you get outta there NOW."

There was a slight panic in Puck's voice, Blaine jotted out from his thought almost immediately. He snapped shut the file before stealthily trying to leave from where he came from. _Tried._

"Hey, whadaya doing here kid?" a middle aged man with a disappearing headline squinted in the dark, his torchlight not bright enough to illuminate the room.

Blaine froze, unsure of his next move. He can hear Puck sighing through the earpiece.

"What should I do?" Blaine teethed to his earpiece.

"Don't kill him!"

"No shit, Artie."Puck said, Blaine could sense Puck rolling his eyes towards Artie.

Blaine felt a hand touch his shoulder and out of instinct he reacted, aggressively. A loud crack could be heard as Blaine twisted the figure's arm. For a large middle aged man, this guy has some really light feet. He stepped the man's foot and tried to pull the man off from the floor. Apparently that didn't work.

_Stupid! The man is probably thrice the weight you have!_

Blaine took out a can secured on his belt and aimed it at the man. A white flash lightened the room for a second and a yelp of pain can be heard from the man. _White man's smile, temporary blinds the victim. No side effects._

"Sorry!" mouthed Blaine as picked up the fallen file when it dropped as he flipped the man's arm. The man was flailing wildly and he tripped over his own feet and hit the counter face first, knocking him out cold. He climbed out from the window and jumped, landing on an air conditioning ventilator at the 8th floor he descended the nine storeys building with grace. All four of his limbs landed safely on the roof of a white van and Blaine let out a shaky breath.

"Bad day?" the driver, Puck, questioned as Blaine hopped into the vehicle.

"The worst." Blaine replied. He tears off his mask and thrown his goggles to the dashboard. _And the best._ He stared out into the dark sky of Ohio, thinking of the night's event and the boy's black and white picture.

_Kurt Hummel._

* * *

EDITED:25/3/2013


	2. Chapter 2

WARNING FOR HOMOPHOBIC LANGUAGE.

* * *

Lima, Ohio: McKinley High

**SLAM!**

Kurt's shoulder collided with the locker for the third time for the day, the jock that shoulder checked him laughed and high fived his team mate, leaving Kurt with a bruising shoulder and books and notes spread out on the linoleum floor.

"Start the day with a bang, end the day with a bang, Gay face!"

As always, no one had stepped out to help the only out gay kid in Lima, Ohio. Kurt sighed, picking up his notes and dropped books, shutting his locker and heads for the exit. Ever since the horrible gossip churned by the rumour mill that confirms Kurt's sexuality to the entire school in junior year, the bullying's gotten worst. Now, in the first day of senior year, he's _exhausted_ of everything. He adjusts the sling of his bag, and bends to pick up the fallen papers, contemplating about skipping school the next day. He passes by the choir room and hears the McKinley High School glee club singing, if not badly, a rendition of "Geek in the pink".

"No, no, no! Rachel, you're singing backup and your voice is louder than the soloist!"

"Mr Ryerson, you just can't accept the reality that my talents are obvious and is better than Cullum's and you want him to sing lead because you like him and not because he has talent."

The argument raged on within the choir room, Kurt had remembered trying out for glee club during sophomore year. But because only Rachel and an African-American girl named Mercedes, a stuttering Asian girl named Tina and himself tried out for the club, the disheartened Mr Shuester had to disband the club. Turning into a spiralling drunkard months later, sleeping in Spanish classes when he was supposed to be teaching. Kurt was lucky he was learning French instead, as all of the students that took Spanish failed that class. Not that Kurt will plan to care for his grades anyway, now that skipping classes has become more of a realistic option for him…

Kurt was greeted by the sight of Burt sitting in the reclining armchair, watching the evening news and drinking Coke from the can.

"Dad, you know you're not supposed to drink that," Kurt taking the can from his father and sitting on the couch across his dad.

"Aw come on bud, it's been weeks since I've been able to wind down and relax, can't I get a treat for once?"

"Not when your health is in concern, and you should lay off working too much in the garage, let Mikey and the rest of the guys take over your work." Kurt continued, his eyes focused on his hands." I can't lose you again, Dad."

There was a moment of silence. "Well if it makes you happy, I'll talk to Mikey about rotating shifts, and lay off eating edible food."

Kurt smiled genuinely for the first time in months; he appreciated his father's attempt. His relationship with his dad was never easy; having nothing in common except for the shared genes and stubborn personality, but his father was trying nonetheless. The father and son then settled in the living room, listening to the news anchor wrapped up a headline on the flood crisis in Indonesia.

"In the other news, the local Russian embassy had been broken into late last Thursday, the security guard on patrol on that day claimed to have seen a hobbit-sized flying squirrel intruding the ninth storey office. Brad Barker is there on scene with the night guard, Brad?"

At that moment, Finn appeared from the stairs. Kurt clearly remembers his past infatuation with his step brother, who is a jock and never bullied Kurt upfront previously, which led Kurt into naively thinking that it was love. So in an attempt to make Kurt's presence known to Finn, he had set their parents up during a parent and teacher conference. After their parents got married in a small and quiet wedding service in Iowa during sophomore year, Finn had pulled Kurt to aside and told him he wanted nothing to do with him in school.

"Look we can be brothers and all at home, but not in school, if the guys in football know I'm bros with you, I would at the bottom of the food chain, and I won't be able to protect you from them, so this goes both ways, right?"

Kurt had stomped off angrily after that, leaving a confused Finn in his wake. But after cooling down, Kurt finds that he could not resent him at all.

"I'm off to Quinn's for a celibacy meeting," Finn says with a mouth stuffed full of food,

"Alright, come back before ten 'o' clock." Burt says, changing the channel to sports, and Kurt took this as a cue to leave the living room.

He excused himself and retreated to his bedroom, the only place he'll ever feel safe. Kurt will never tell his dad about the problems he had in school. Mainly because of his dad's recent trip to the hospital, Kurt will never want to face a reality that he is _really_ left alone in this cruel world, he'll rather fend for himself than to risk the health of his father by letting him know what's happening in school and how bad it has gotten, Kurt deals with slushie facials, dumpster tossing and locker checks _every single day_, he considers a day without one as a rare occasion. The slur he's been getting is starting to affect him and the faculty's indifference didn't help either. Kurt jumps when a locker closes, cowers when any jock passes by him and he is always skittish in the hallways, and frankly, it is starting to wear him down.

He tosses his book bag on the floor and wheels himself to his study table, resting his head on his arms, ignoring the need for shower and food, he could deal with that later. Sometimes he wishes to have at least one person to notice it all, or someone to hear him out; oh what Kurt would give to have a confidant by his side...

* * *

Meanwhile back in the embassy, a clandestine figure enters the cluttered storage room, heading straight towards an upturned cabinet, scanning its scattered contents on the floor. With a last look at the K section of the room, the figure answered the vibrating phone.

"It's missing, he's missing."

* * *

**A/N:Okay I have recently just restarted writing this, and I've got the plot all laid out and this is actually dedicated to that one follower of this story,****(Earth Magician) I don't know how the follower thing works but I hope you know this story is updating! and to the readers out there, thank you for reading! I'm still writing this story, any evidence of you reading this would be loved!( also it keeps me inspired and motivated to write:D)**


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: eep! i'm so sorry for the late updates, between LNY and 4x14, i didn't have time to write this. i'll try to at least update within two weeks.

This is back to Blaine's POV.

**warning: blaingst?**

* * *

The van pulled up to a stop at a back alley, Puck turned to face an impassive Blaine sitting shotgun.

"You know the Agency is not gonna be happy about the burn."

A lot was going on Blaine's mind throughout the journey back to headquarters, mostly was about the boy in the file_: Is he in some sort of trouble? Why would the Agency felt the need to acquire his particulars? Blaine tried to answer these questions with his limited knowledge of the Agency._ However, what he had never worried about until now was his superior's reaction to the mission. He tried to school his expression into somewhat nonchalant.

"It will be fine, Puck, I think we did fairly well today."

It took a moment before Puck took the bait, not before staring into Blaine's eyes trying to see if he's lying or not. Blaine thought better not to fidget under the intense stare of the hardened agent. When Blaine was assigned to work with Puck and Artie for the mission, he knew that he was dealing with more than experienced agents unlike himself, even although Puck was just a year older than him and Artie is Blaine's age, he knew it never ends well for those who messed with the Saw.

It was only after Artie's insistent knockings at the back of the van that the agent tears his eyes away from Blaine. He pushes a button under the dashboard, revealing a passageway into the dark.

It wasn't an outright lie, Blaine really thought he did well; after all it was his first few field missions since he graduated from the training field. As much he liked to imagine he was a top class operative, he was just a rookie. He look across to see his comrades removing field gear, while listening to a debrief by Agent Wilde, holding a clipboard and dressed in tight black pencil skirt and long-sleeved white blouse unbuttoned enough to see her cleavage. If Blaine was any less gay, he might be attracted to the scantily clad agent; or be drooling like what his team mates are doing currently. Junior Agent Kitty Wilde was a year younger than Blaine and still awaiting the approval for field missions, for now, she's stuck as a research analyst for the Agency.

"The Director wants to see you." She said, ending her debrief with a Cheshire grin, twirling in her heels, exiting with her stilettos clanking on the tiled floor.

Blaine was taken aback, and seeing the faces of his teammates, they shared the same sentiments. It wasn't usual for the director to be issuing salutations to everyone in the Agency. _Although that would be very cool._ If the Director wants to see you, it can only be bad news.

Blaine and his team were herded into the Director's office, a spacious room painted white and medals and achievements ranging from framed photos and certificates that decorated the interior. The office had no windows; the only light sources are overhead fluorescent lamps which brightly lit the office. A flat screen television hung at the corner of the office, and at the centre of the room stood a large desk with a glass surface that was piled with paper work, behind the desk sits a man in his late fifties, his greyish black hair gelled to the side and was wearing a black business suit, a black bowtie completed the ensemble. He was watching the television with his hands joint by the fingers. Blaine chanced a look at the programme, it was the evening news.

"Agents, please have a seat." The Director gestured to the chairs in front of him, not taking his eyes off the screen. The team did as they were instructed, Blaine sat rim rod straight.

"Apparently, I was informed by Brad Barker that there was a break-in the Russian Embassy, care to explain that to me?" Blaine opened his mouth, but was interrupted by the Director.

"You could have jeopardise your identities and blown the Agency's cover." The Director said with a serious tone, Blaine wished he could have screamed instead, the guilt eating him alive.

"Sir, it wasn't their fault, I was the one that screwed up." Blaine interjected.

The Director stared into the hazel eyes similar to his own.

"Leave us, Agent Puckerman, Agent Abrams." He said after a moment of silence.

Artie and Puck obeyed, as soon as the door clicks behind them. The Director sighed, muting the television. He turned to look at Blaine, whose looking at his hands instead.

"I gave you one simple task, Blaine, and you could still mess it up. I'm disappointed, son."

Blaine looked up to see his father, with the similar skin complexion and nose, with frown lines ever present and his eyes, once held love and concern for Blaine disappeared when Blaine came out to him at the age of fourteen, it was never the same after that. Senior Agent Anderson took a file from the cluttered table; Blaine recognised it as the same file he had stolen from the embassy.

"Because of your folly, Agent, I will suffer the blowback and others might already know what is going on."

"And what's going on?"

"That's classified information, Agent Anderson," his hazel eyes glared into Blaine's "and after what you have done, should I trust you again?"

"Let me fix this, I'll do whatever it takes." Blaine pleaded.

He couldn't stand the shame and disappointment in his father's features, the ever present frown he gives to Blaine, and he needed to fix this, to prove to his father that he isn't a shove-in, an incompetent son that his father wasted time and effort enlisting him into the secret service. He needed a chance to redeem himself. The Director brooded over the topic, making Blaine twitch with nerves.

"Report back tomorrow, Agent, I might have something."

* * *

notes:fret not, Kurt and Blaine will meet up soon!


	4. Chapter 4a

Real pobas 4a

1st A/N: In chapter 2, Kurt was actually at his first day of school but I've decided to change it to his third week instead, although it doesn't change much in the story's progression. Ignore this note if you have been reading after I've updated that.

2nd A/N: reminder that _italics_ are thoughts and linebreak is the a change in POV.

**Disclaimer: poor judgement in fashion.**

Wet, sloppy kisses to those who had made it this far!

* * *

Two days after the incident in the Director's office, Blaine finds himself in the hallway of a foreign school. Staring at his new timetable after coming out from a meeting with the Principal, Blaine has never felt any less cared for in a school by its committee, and that's coming from someone that has experience with the worst middle school in Westerville. He adjusts the timetable in his hands, as if the way to homeroom will miraculously light up in the sheet of paper if he looks at it at the correctangle. Blaine sighed; he was ready to be focused and dedicated to this undercover mission, setting aside his silly school boy crush of the boy in the photo. This mission might probably make or break Blaine in the eyes of his father. He can't afford to screw it up again, and definitely not for an unknown boy in a black and white photo, _no matter how intriguing he is_. He shoved the timetable into his satchel, deciding to use his charms instead to navigate him through McKinley. He taps a passing student in the hallway.

"Excuse me, I'm new here and I—"

Blaine stops short and stares agape. His eyes were a mixture of blue-green (but more so blue, Blaine observes) he had the palest of skin and had freckles on his face. He was pretty much the same in the photo except he grew out of his baby fat. Out of all the students in McKinley High, Blaine had apparently tapped the one and only, Kurt Hummel.

When Blaine reeled in his urge to proclaim his love for him, he actually sees the apprehension in Kurt's pretty eyes. How his chin was upturned, his features wearing a guarded expression. He clears his throat, and introduces himself.

"My name's Blaine,"

Blaine mentally berated himself for the error of momentarily forgetting his cover name. But who could blame him?_ Kurt's gorgeous._

He offers a hand to Kurt, but Kurt stares at his hand as if he was offering him a pink chicken wing instead.

"Kurt,"

He accepts the proffered hand, giving Blaine a quick shake after what it seems like eons ago. Kurt gives him a cautious smile. Blaine tugs his bowtie, suddenly very self-conscious in front of him.

"So you're new here?"

"Yeah, and I'm a bit lost." Blaine shrugs, a bit sheepish.

Kurt hummed in response, "So which class you're heading off to?"

"Homeroom,"

"Well you're in luck, I'm heading there too."

With that, he continues his advance to homeroom; Blaine had to jog a little to catch up with him.

"So you're a senior here?" Blaine says, mimicking Kurt's question before.

"Yeah, one more year before I say 'Adieu' to this backward town," he says, eyes darting to every opened door.

"To New York, I presume."

"The one and only,"

They stop outside the homeroom, Blaine sees Kurt jump a little when a locker nearby slams shut too loudly. Without thinking, he places a hand on Kurt's shoulder. Kurt looks at the hand on his shoulder then at Blaine, giving him a watery smile.

"It's going to be alright, Kurt."

* * *

This is one of the few days when Kurt had decided to grace his presence in this ungodly ground of a school. Be it too low or too high, his Navigator's mileage might bring suspicion and ultimately concern from Carole or his dad_._ He plans to ditch homeroom and hide in the auditorium, or the cafeteria until the period ends. Walking through the hallway, he quickens his pace, his alerts high. As he passes the Principal's office, a tap on his shoulder jolts his body to defensive mode. He twirls around to face the perpetrator, ready to give the best bitch glare for ruining his outfit for the day. Instead of cold, disgusting Slurpee to his face, someone was talking to him.

"Excuse me, I'm new here and I—"

He's shorter than Kurt, hair gelled and almost glued to his skull. Hazel-brown eyes,_ is there flecks of green in it?_ That reflects uncertainty but warm regardless. He's wearing a charming smile, Kurt had almost let his guard down and smiled back, but years in is this school had him reconsider his action. His mouth slightly agape as he stares at Kurt and Kurt felt like he is scrutinised. The stranger introduces himself.

"My name's Blaine,"

The stranger, Blaine, extends his hand, expecting Kurt to shake it, Kurt has acquainted with many hands before; hands that tossed him into dumpsters, hands that pushes him to lockers, and a specific pair of hands that terrifies Kurt more than anything else. He snaps out of his reverie, Blaine waiting expectantly for him to shake it, his smile never waning. Instead, it grew wider when Kurt returns the gesture.

"Kurt,"

Infected by his pleasant disposition, Kurt smiles a little. Blaine tugs at his bow tie, and Kurt sees the stranger's outfit: a white polo shirt over dark blue sweater vest, topping it off with a bowtie, _is that a candy striped bowtie?_ There was something about Blaine that reminds him of a child.

"So you're new here?"

Kurt says; making conversation so he wouldn't be caught staring.

"Yeah, and I'm a bit lost." Blaine shrugs.

Kurt hummed in response, "So which class you're heading off to?"

"Homeroom,"

Kurt calculates the possibility of running into jocks on the way to home room. He contemplates whether he should take the risk to personally bring Blaine to it, or, if verbal directions will suffice. He is reminded of a toddler lost in a shopping mall and applied it to his situation, internally, Kurt sighs.

"Well you're in luck, I'm heading there too."

"So you're a senior here?"

"Yeah, one more year before I say 'Adieu' to this backward town," he says, eyes darting to every opened door; you can never be sure if _they_ are there, and if so, Kurt wants to be prepared.

"To New York, I presume."

"The one and only,"

They stop outside the homeroom, Kurt couldn't help but flinch when a locker nearby slammed too loudly, Blaine seems to have taken notice of that. He places a firm and reassuring hand on Kurt, his eyes warm and bright.

"It's going to be alright, Kurt."

For the first time in years, he actually believed it.

* * *

**As always, thoughts and ideas are welcomed with home baked cookies and hot chocolate~**


	5. Chapter 4b

POBAS 4B

A/N:I'm so sorry about the late update! I swore I thought I could post this part on Wednesday but it was presentation week in school so RL got the better of me :X

Just another note: it's part B as I thought it fits into part A nicely. I dunno, I'm weird.

From what I've gathered, homeroom is a period where teachers take the class' attendance and announcements are made, and is kind of a free period.

* * *

Blaine entered the homeroom first. The teacher was at the front of the classroom taking out the attendance when she raises her head to see Kurt and Blaine arriving timely into class.

"So you're the new student…" The teacher pauses to look at her clipboard "Devon?"

_So that was his cover name._

"yeah," he could feel Kurt's eyes behind his back.

"Welcome to McKinley High Mr Anderson." She gives him a curt smile. "Seeing that you have just transferred from Dalton Academy, I'm pretty sure you will be able to keep up with the classes here. Take a seat, the Principal's making his announcement soon."

Blaine nodded his response. With that, Blaine took an empty seat next to Kurt, who was already seated at the back of the class.

_At least they didn't change my last name._

Kurt raised an eyebrow, clearly confused.

"I like to go by my middle name." Blaine says, thinking by his toes, he places his satchel on the floor.

"So your name's Devon?" Kurt says,

"What's wrong with that?" Blaine huffs, Kurt is not the first to tease his middle name, or in this case, his name. When Kurt sees Blaine's puffed up chest and indignant look, he cracks a little smirk. Blaine likes it when Kurt smiles, it meant that the barriers creating by Kurt is lowering, and this will help with his mission. And not because he finds Kurt's smile dazzling and the thought that it was him that brought that rare smile into Kurt's features made him realise he was doing something right.

Before Blaine can say anything further, the feedback in the PA system created a collective hiss from the class. Blaine listens to the familiar Indian accent over the broadcast systems announcing the shortage of toilet papers and suggestion to get some from home. Kurt didn't speak with him throughout the period, and no matter how hard Blaine tried to start a conversation, Kurt only replies with non-committal hums and one word replies. Blaine almost wanted to tear his hair out of frustration when the bell signalled the period's end. Kurt shouldered his satchel and was the first few to exit the class, leaving Blaine alone in to sort out his busted up head. Blaine was confused. Once he thought that he was making progress, he had back pedalled two more steps. He could not find anything fault with what happened earlier. Was he pushing too hard? He runs out of the now emptied classroom, scanning the throng of students in the corridor for Kurt. He probably should have placed a tracker bug on him, or lassoed him when he had the chance. _Maybe he might be in the classroom for the next lesson already._ Blaine perked up immediately at the thought. But when he had arrived in AP Chemistry(thanks to the help of the teacher in homeroom), the brunette boy was nowhere in the classroom. Confounded by the turns of events, he nonchalantly asked about Kurt around the classroom.

"Hummel? He rarely attends classes this year, only seen him once in AP Chemistry." The Asian guy shrugs, and goes to his lab station at the front.

Blaine tries to push down his flare of panic, maybe Kurt doesn't like Chemistry, it couldn't be possible that after just an hour he had already failed his mission. During lunch, he does a perimeter check around the school building.

But for now, Kurt is gone.

* * *

"So how's first day of school, champ?"

Puck greeted Blaine with a fatherly like tone. Blaine rolled his eyes and ignored Puck, flopping down on the battered couch next to him.

He was in their man-cave, as Puck proudly puts it; it's a run-down cottage that used to be summer lake house of some sort, hidden in the safety of the nature reserve, sequestered from civilisation so that they could run their operation away from prying eyes.

The cottage is a modest living space, which had been classy for the occupants before. Broken chandelier hung from the foyer, to the right from the foyer was the sitting room, battered and worn couches were placed facing a built in maple fireplace. Another doorway leads to a small corridor with four doors, a washroom and three bedrooms.

To the left of the foyer is the kitchen, the walls of which were adorned with burgundy maple cabinets, the wooden floor is of the similar design. There was a built in island in the middle of the kitchen, empty counters and a single stove leaned against the walls. A glass sliding door was across the doorway from the foyer, it leads to the patio sheltered by the overhang of the roof.

The cottage was sparsely furnished, when the operatives found the place, the only furniture had been the couches, three mattresses and a foyer table.

Puck offered him chips, to which Blaine shakes his head vehemently.

"I need more time, he doesn't trust anyone." Blaine says to no one else in particular.

"That's not the point," Puck replies to him, shoving a handful of chips into his mouth.

"Really Puck, I thought you told me to spy on him?"

"I told you to do your job as a spy!"

"Would you two cut it out?" Artie says from one of the rooms. "Blaine's right, we need him to gain a certain level of trust, and since he already knows Devon, it will help in our cause if Kurt Hummel could trust Devon."

Blaine winces, "actually, about Devon…"

* * *

Asian guy= Mike Chang, I was hoping I could insert that into this somewhere, oh well...

The next chapter might be a tad bit angsty, geez, and trust me, when I started this I thought this was a light-hearted fic!

*places a freshly batch of cookies for reviews and comments*


	6. Chapter 5

**CHAPTER 5**

The next time Blaine saw Kurt, it was a chilly Thursday morning. Three days after the initial contact.

Blaine was walking towards the school building, it was too early for most students to arrive to school and the parking lot was deserted except for the handful of vehicles scattered across the lot. He parked his car in his usual spot. He shrugged on his messenger bag and starts his trek to school, his fingers tapping to the beat of the music in his ear buds. Blaine was still optimistic that he would run into Kurt in school somehow, he just needs to give him his space. For past days, Blaine had been helping Artie tap into the school system, giving Artie access to the security cameras around the school, and was familiarising himself with the school grounds. But Blaine cannot help but be disappointed when Kurt did not show up at the end of the day. He tries to push down the nagging feeling that he scared Kurt off. Instead, he thinks of what to say to him when he runs into him the next time.

The next time arrives far too quickly than expected. During a song transition in his iPod, Blaine heard a sickening crunch of body impacting metal. He turned his head to the origin of sound, he discerns Kurt, slouched in front of a dumpster, his face revealing a slight hint of pain but otherwise, indifference. Blaine also spots a group of red and white letter jackets etching closer to him. Blaine could feel his body pumping with adrenaline as he rushes towards the scene, tearing his ear buds away as he tries to capture the jocks' attention by yelling "Hey!"

It worked, all of them turned to face Blaine, curious to see who dared to tilt the status quo: The popular bullying the weak, the weak giving in.

The supposed leader of the letter jackets step out from the group. Leering at Blaine, he smirked.

"Why don't you mind your own fucking business, midget?"

The jock is around 6 and half foot tall; Blaine thinks that he might be the school's basketball player or a linebacker, solely because of his ridiculously tall frame.

"And why don't you pick someone your own size?" Blaine snapped, straightening his back.

The jocks behind the ringleader guffaws, Blaine espies Kurt behind all of them, frozen at his place on the asphalt and captivated by what's going on.

"If we did, we probably have no one to bully, dumbass."

There is a reason for stereotypes, Blaine thinks, he stares at the bully in disbelief. _Did he not understand what he said?_

"King Kong is an obvious choice, since all of you look exactly like him, but I doubt you have enough brawls to compensate for his brains though." Blaine countered. He could see the gears turning in the jock's head, and the veins popping out at the side of his head as he slowly come to terms to what Blaine said before.

"Are you saying that I look like a monkey?" he threatens, looming over Blaine.

"Well, I think you are a Simian, but that would be an insult to primates in general." Blaine shrugged, keeping eye contact with the towering frame. He didn't think the bully understood him; nevertheless, the burly teenager throws a hook at him. By instinct, and the rigorous spy training Blaine had been used to, he ducks. Throwing the bully off balance with a swift swipe by his ankles, he lands on the asphalt with a loud thud. The others quickly recovered from the sudden upturned of events. All of them rushing forward to try and avenge their fallen leader, Blaine makes quick work of them. Blaine made sure he was not the first to throw a punch, shifting his lithe body around to avoid poorly thrown fists. By the end of it all, a few were left groaning on the floor, and the remaining scattered, cradling a bruised limb or face.

Blaine nods with a satisfied smile, he thinks of the security guard back in the Russian Embassy. _This_ is his usual standards. He picks up his bag where it has fallen when the herd of husky teenagers charged at him, and remembers how the scuffle started. Kurt is still at the exact spot as before, but his stoic features is replaced with aghast.

"Who are you?"

Blaine blanches; he squats down to Kurt's level.

"Oh god, you are having a concussion, how many fingers am I holding up?"

Kurt pushes away the two fingers from his line of sight.

"Blaine, I know you are. But _what_ are you?"

"Let's just head into the school first, okay?"

Kurt stands up with the help of Blaine. He dusts off his jacket and follows Blaine to school, if Blaine was trying to worm his way from an explanation he could might as well forget it, because there's no way Kurt could forget _that._

"I thought I had given enough hints to stay away, new kid."

"And why would you do that?"

"Because _Blaine_ nothing good happens when you are friends with the _only _out gay kid in Ohio!" Kurt snaps, halting in his steps. That was the real motive why Kurt ran out the class three days ago. It was to give Blaine an easy way out. _So that it would be easier to let go. _His brain unhelpfully supplements.

Blaine stops in his track as well,

"Not anymore,"

"What?"

"You're not the only gay kid in Ohio now."

Kurt turns and looks at Blaine, trying to find any cracks in his humourless joke, he found none. His face was dead serious. Slowly, Kurt seemed to comprehend what Blaine is trying to say.

A surge of unidentified relief washed over him, _finally_, someone that could understand his troubles, someone that has heard his distress call in the middle of an endless ocean, someone that has thrown a lifebuoy into the vast ocean of solitude. He thinks of just pouring out his heart to this kind stranger, who happens to be gay and saved him the trouble of getting out of another dumpster tossing. But the more guarded side of Kurt's conscience, the one that holds all the bad memories of trusting someone, overpowers that thought.

"Look Kurt, I know you have been through a lot and you're alone and scared but you don't have to be anymore." Blaine walks back to where Kurt stood. His arms outspread and open, his hazel eyes so pure and honest, Kurt is lost in the sincerity in it. Tentatively, Blaine closes in and brings him into his embrace, giving plenty of time for Kurt to pull away. But he doesn't.

Kurt leans to his neck and breaths in the strong scent of _Blaine_. He shudders, willing his tears to go away. They stay like that for a long moment in comfortable silence, allowing Blaine to hold him while he tries not to cry. After a long moment to what seems like an eternity, Kurt pulls himself away from Blaine. They walk towards their first class together and before the bell announces their first lesson, they had been chatting away like old friends.

They stick to easier topics. Blaine realises they have a lot in common. And being gay in the conservative mid-west did help a lot too. Kurt had an impeccable taste in fashion, it was way too obvious from the moment he met Kurt the first time. Blaine tells Kurt of his Vogue subscription and his obsession with bowties. Not many people would agree to this strange addiction but Kurt shrugs and says "it looks good on you." It made Blaine want to put bowties on every day, and everywhere. Kurt informs Blaine of his family, about how his mother died when he was eight and now he lives with his dad, stepmom, and stepbrother.

As on cue, Finn bursts into the classroom,

"Kurt, I—" he notices Blaine sitting next to Kurt, looking curiously at him, and the class staring at his sudden outburst, his tall form shrinks. "Can I talk to you outside?"

A/N: eeek! I hope it wasn't too angsty, also I hope that's enough to reason why Kurt left during homeroom.

As always, reviews and comments are loved!


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